


Plea

by golden_flare



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Blood, M/M, Mpreg, NON/CON, Not so happy ending, Rape, Violence, idea of miscarriage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-17
Updated: 2013-03-17
Packaged: 2017-12-05 14:12:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/724183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/golden_flare/pseuds/golden_flare
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shaw visits while Erik is away, and finds something he wasn't expecting and decides to take advantage of it</p>
            </blockquote>





	Plea

**Author's Note:**

> PLEASE MIND THE TAGS!
> 
> Written for [this prompt](http://xmen-firstkink.livejournal.com/8700.html?thread=20950268#t20950268) at the kink meme

The bed dipping on the supposed-to-be-empty side of the bed has him startle awake. His eyes take a moment to focus, his mind hazy from the nap. The man towering over him is not Erik, he realises one second too late.

"This is even better than expected" the man chuckles and his face comes into view.

It's Shaw. Instantly Charles' left hand wraps around his swollen middle, while the other goes to his temple. He encounters a wall where there is supposed to be Shaw's mind.

"Ah ah ah." Shaw smirks and taps his own temple, where Charles can see a silvery plate in the dim light, "I came prepared."

"What do you want?" Charles spits, now both hands wrapped around his sleeping child.

Shaw only purses his lips, looking like he contemplates his answer "I actually came to kill you, dear" Charles winces at the tone, "but seeing that you are in a rather delicate condition, I've decided to spare your lives for now." 

Relief washes over Charles, but is quickly replaced by dread as Shaw's features take on an ugly grimace.

"But I will take you, if that's okay with you."

"If you take us, Erik will find you!" he throws back, struggling to wiggle away from the other man, but Shaw just leans in more.

"For being a professor, you are rather daft. I have no need to drag you around, I will take you" and a shudder runs down Charles' spine as realisation sets in at those words.

"No" he croaks and desperately tries to penetrate Shaw's mind.

"Don't act like a little virgin." A hand settles on a space of his middle he cannot shield with his arms. The touch is cold and Charles can feel bile rising in his throat. Heart hammering away, gasping as he feels his child wake up, shifting, hoping that Shaw hasn't felt it. The smile spreading on the other man's face betrays his hopes.

Shaw lingers, before dropping his hands to the duvet, slowly taking away Charles' last form of shield.

A heavy silence spreads and Charles cannot do other but watch. He could make a run for it, but he already knows that he wouldn't make it. The consequences running through his had forming terrible images.

He ignores his own sobs as rough hands start to strip him, making him wish he would have bothered to at least put on a shirt, but he had been too hot, and now he is being stripped bare too quickly. The child inside him kicks away from the turmoil its parent is feeling, and Charles bites his lip at a particularly strong kick.

"Must be uncomfortable." and Charles hates the rather gleeful tone in Shaw's voice. "How far along are you?"

Biting his lip more forcefully, he turns his head in refusal, only to groan in pain as a hand presses down hard on his hip. "Next time it will be the child" comes the sneered thread.

There is nothing he can do but obey if he doesn't want to risk his child's life. He takes a deep breath "33 weeks." but he doesn't turn to look at Shaw.

Nothing more is said and Charles feels a tiny bit of hope spark inside him, but it dies down instantly as he hears the rustling of fabric and the distinctive sound of a zip being opened.

The plea finds its way to his lips before he can swallow it back down, "Please" and he turns his head to look Shaw straight in the eye, "Please. We are both mutants. This is below us. This child could be a mutant. We don't harm each other."

"Could?" Shaw echoes and suddenly he's towering over Charles, "Could? This child could as well be a human, and I think you know my idea of what to do with humans."

Charles wants to scream as he feels a hand spread him and it ignites the urge to struggle, to push himself up and away, but the hand holding him down by the hip is too dangerously close to his middle. Another sob falls from his lips. Everything. He would give everything to get away from this, or at least know his child will get out of this unharmed.

The taste of blood is strong in his mouth as he feels the intense burn of a finger pushing in. Shaw didn't even bother using spit. One hand drops from his belly to violently twist the sheets. He tries to close his legs, but they are forced open, sending a painful twinge up his back.

"One refusal or struggle, and you will find out soon enough if it's a boy or a girl."

Charles gasps as the second finger is added too quickly. "Please." and he feels the intense feeling if shame spreading through him as the first tears sting in his eyes, "Please. Anything but this."

"You don't like it rough?" Shaw mocks him and his fingers pull out, "I promise to not be too rough, if that pretty mouth of yours keeps begging."

He nods without a second of thought. Not too rough could lessen the chances of premature labour, it could help him, it could mean that the child would be safe. It could mean that Erik has a chance to get home.

The fingers return, still dry, but slower this time. Pleas and pained groans fall from his lip, but he doesn't know what he is pleading for. To get it done and over with, for Shaw to stop, for Erik to get home faster. Pain radiates through his body and he channels his powers to shield the child from the anguish he feels. Shaw is true to his word. He is not too rough, but instead everything is drawn out and Charles' mind starts to fall into a pained haze, slowly drawing in on itself. The third finger spreads him too wide and a scream climbs up his throat. A huff is his answer as the fingers tear him open.

It is done too fast for him to adjust, and he knows what comes next.

"On your knees" and a bruising slap to his thigh. He struggles to roll onto his side. His lower body is aflame and he doesn't dare to look, afraid to see blood. Once settled on his knees, he lowers his head into his folded arms. This position puts a painful strain on his back, the weight of the baby now pulling at him.

Sinking his teeth into his own flesh doesn't take away the pain from Shaw breaching him. He feels something wet running down the back of his thigh. Shaw takes too long, letting the pain seep through Charles, before moving to sink in another inch.

If he could only black out until Shaw is done, but he can't. He would be even more helpless and it would leave the child exposed, without his powers to shield it. To his relief he feels the kicking of his child steadily lessen and hopes that they are only lulled back to sleep from the hum of his soothing mental waves. Anything else would break his heart.

Disgust and fear run through his body as he feels Shaw move. He isn't sure whether the blood he's tasting is from his lip he's ripped open or from the wound he's bitten into his forearm, but the emotions make him choke and he's starting to struggle for breath, while his body is being shook by Shaw's movements. The sound of skin again skin makes him bite harder.

Slowly any sense of times is lost to him and everything is reduced to Shaw's groans as he buries himself deeper inside the unwilling body and Charles' own sobs. He doesn't know how long it drags on, but soon the burn becomes a throb, spreading out into his back, his whole body seizing up from being too tense in such a situation, struggling to hold himself up on his knees.

“I asked you to beg!” Shaw grunts, as his fingernails sink into the flesh of Charles' hips, making him yelp as a new wave of pain washes over him.

Blood drips from his lips as he rasps a “Please.” again and again.

It seems to spur Shaw on and his movements become faster and uncoordinated, and with one last groan he buries himself inside Charles, coming in spurts.

Anything that happens after is a blur to Charles. Shaw leaves without a word after zipping himself back up, leaving Charles to his own. All Charles can remember is trying to get to the bathroom, is shaky legs giving out beneath him.

*

Erik opens the door and is met by silence. The last few months he had gotten used to getting home to the soft aura radiating from Charles, but now there is nothing and he quietly closes the door behind him and lets his powers wander across the rooms. Everything is in order, until he stumbles over a lamp not where it is supposed to be. He strides forward, picking up a low hum the closer he gets.

He runs and stops dead in his tracks at what he sees.

The out-of-place lamp is a fallen over one and casts a low shadow on the figure by the bed. It is a dim light, but it is enough to reflect off a pool of wet beneath it. A shiver of dread runs through his body at the too cheerful tone of the hum, not fitting the scene.

“Charles?” and he steps closer.

There is no reaction from the other man, as he continues to hum, a bloody hand rubbing circles on his swollen middle.

Erik steps closer and falls to his knees with a cry, as the light of the lamp reflects off the pool of blood.


End file.
